


Against Regulations

by andabatae



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dominant Ben Solo, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, HOA Drama, HOA President Ben Solo, HoA, Homeowners' Association, Neighbors, Size Kink, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, feisty rey, hedges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: As president of his neighborhood Homeowners' Association, Ben Solo appreciates the importance of rules. Hedges should be exactly four feet tall, houses should be painted in complementary colors, and on no account should anyone plant flowers that don't match the neighborhood aesthetic.When Rey Palpatine moves in next door, Ben quickly learns that not everyone appreciates rules. As Rey flouts regulation after regulation, the neighbors wind up embroiled in a passionate feud.It's pretty clear Rey hates him... so what's Ben to do when he realizes her soulmate mark matches his?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 79
Kudos: 1150
Collections: Solo Love Letters





	Against Regulations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shestoolazytologin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shestoolazytologin/gifts).



> For those who don't know what an HOA is (Homeowners' Association): It's a private organization that takes on the responsibility of managing and maintaining a neighborhood. Members pay dues, which then go to fund things like repairs or private golf courses. HOAs are notorious for stupid, draconian rules, though, and people can be fined for painting their house the wrong color, having flyers on their door, walking the dog too early in the morning, or a bunch of other ridiculous things.

“You’re such a fucking arse!”

“Bitch, meet kettle.”

Rey gapes at him. To be honest, Ben would gape at himself, too, if it wouldn’t lose him points in this argument. Mostly because that was an amazing comeback.

Unfortunately, Maz Kanata, the elderly woman who lives across the street, doesn’t seem to agree. She gasps, then glares at Ben, as if he’s in the wrong here when Rey Palpatine obviously provoked him first.

“Don’t like it, don’t listen in,” he calls out.

Maz is shameless, as always. She stays right where she is, ostensibly pruning a rosebush. “Some things can’t be unsaid, young Solo,” she intones in her ridiculous soothsayer voice. “You’d be wise to remember that, especially if you ever hope to woo a soulmate.”

“Yeah,” Rey chimes in, smirking at Ben. “You’d be wise to remember that.”

Ben hates any mention of soulmates. He clenches his fists at his sides, then looks away from Rey, not wanting to stare at that beautiful, hateably smug face anymore. Unfortunately, his eyes land on the hedge fronting her yard, and that sets him off all over again.

“The Homeowners’ Association rules clearly say that hedges may only be four feet tall in front yards and six—”

“—six feet in back yards,” Rey says over him. “I know.”

“If you know, why is your hedge currently four feet and two inches tall?” He shakes his measuring tape at her. “You know uniformity is important in a community like this. We want to convey luxury, unity, and order. We can’t do that when one person isn’t following the guidelines!”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Sod off. Just because you buy into this Homeowners’ Association crap doesn’t mean I have to.”

He gapes at her. “ _Buy in?_ I’m the fucking president.”

“Even more reason not to care about your bullshit regulations.” Rey shrugs. “In my experience, people in positions of authority are the least likely to follow their own rules.”

“Well, in my experience, nobodies who needed their grandfather’s money to buy their way into this exclusive gated community don’t get a say!”

Rey's mouth works around words she doesn’t speak, and then she turns and storms off.

Ben should feel good he won. Rey has been a thorn in his side from day one, and it’s rare for him to get the upper hand.

He doesn’t feel good.

\---

Late that night, Ben stares at spreadsheets on his laptop and broods about the state of the neighborhood. He isn’t just being an ass for the sake of it—the truth is, HOA spending is outpacing revenue from dues, and it’s impossible to make essential repairs or maintain the golf course unless dues increase. Which means justifying the extra expense, which means ensuring the neighborhood looks its absolute best at all times, which means screaming at Rey Palpatine sometimes.

He wonders why he was cursed to have her move in next door to him. Four months ago, he was thrilled to see the old Tekka property had been purchased. Scarcity imparts value, and too many for-sale signs make a neighborhood look unappealing to high-caliber tenants. He learned all the details about Rey from the realtor, who he has an under-the-table deal with to keep him informed about any developments related to the neighborhood. Sight-unseen, Rey sounded perfect: young but rich, newly in possession of a fortune from a previously-unknown grandfather. Ben assumed an orphan with a tragic backstory who had unexpectedly inherited money would be a good member of the neighborhood. In any rational universe, Rey would be so grateful for the opportunity that she wouldn’t be a pain in the side of her HOA president.

How wrong he'd been.

Ben sighs and closes his eyes, picturing Rey’s fury-flushed face. She’s so fucking pretty, and that’s probably the worst thing of all. It’s one thing to scream at prune-faced Armitage Hux for his improper goldfish pond maintenance—it’s another to scream at the most beautiful woman Ben’s ever seen.

But for the sake of the neighborhood—and to avoid fucking up when he only took on this responsibility a year ago—he’ll do it.

It would be much easier if Ben’s precursors weren’t his parents. The Organa-Solos reigned supreme over this neighborhood for years, and when they retired, the position—and the HOA’s debts—fell to him. Too bad Han was terrible at finances. Ben inherited a mess, and now he’s paying for it.

He tries to focus on the spreadsheet again, but his gaze keeps straying to his forearm. There’s a red mark there, just beneath his rolled-up sleeve, something that resembles a sword rising between between two curving wings. Maz’s barb from earlier grates at him: _Some things can’t be unsaid, young Solo. You’d be wise to remember that, especially if you ever hope to woo a soulmate._

He doesn’t hope to woo a soulmate. Or rather, he knows he’ll never have one. The time for that is long past.

Even Hux, that insufferable asshole, found his soulmate at the age of twenty-five. He and Rose Tico, a cheerful brunette who deserves way better than Hux, have been living in connubial bliss for six years. It’s the same story with everyone Ben knows. If you haven’t found a soulmate by thirty, you don’t deserve one.

Even if he wasn’t thirty-two, Ben would know he doesn’t deserve one.

He hates the fact that his soulmate mark is so prominent. Before he started limiting his wardrobe to long-sleeve shirts, people commented on it all the time. “Is your soulmate here?” new neighborhood members always asked upon meeting him. There was always a shift in their expressions when he said no—interest turning to pity or, sometimes, uneasiness.

Online dating proved to be a disappointment, too. He swiped left on soulmate mark picture after soulmate mark picture, and no matter how many women and men he investigated, no one bore a matching mark.

Sex was still an option, of course, but what was the point when both parties knew it was going nowhere? In his twenties, he tried a few no-strings-attached relationships, but there was always something crucial missing. A connection that would elevate sex beyond mindless fucking.

Ben leans back on the sofa, moving his laptop aside. There’s no point in working anymore. He’s too distracted, too emotionally uneven.

He blames Rey Palpatine. The image of her swims in his mind’s eye, unbidden. Elfin features, lithe frame, pert ass. She’s the absolute bane of Ben’s existence, with her too-tall hedges, regulation-violating blue window frames, and inability to line her trash bins up symmetrically, but he can’t stop thinking about her. 

Why does she have to be so difficult?

And why does she have to be so damn pretty?

\---

It’s Sunday, which is Ben’s yard maintenance day. He heads outside at 10 AM to measure and prune his bushes, weed the garden, and mow the lawn.

“Good morning, neighbor!”

His head snaps around at the cheerful greeting. It’s Rey Palpatine, leaning on the fence between their yards. She looks like some Dickensian scamp with patched jeans, dirt-smudged cheeks, and a mischievous grin.

“Good morning,” he says hesitantly, wondering what fresh hell she’s about to visit on him.

“Lovely day for some gardening,” she says, waving a trowel in the air.

That explains the dirt. He approaches the fence, trying to keep his heart rate down as he braces himself for whatever anti-HOA-regulation prank she’s pulling now. “What are you planting?” he asks, eyes scanning over her shoulder, looking for her latest crime.

A burst of purple catches his eye, and he gasps. “No,” he says.

“Yes.” Rey smiles smugly. “I’m planting pansies. Aren’t they beautiful?”

They are beautiful, but that’s not the point. Ben inhales deeply, trying for calm. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Purple flowers are strictly forbidden under HOA code,” he says. “As are any blossoms that aren’t shades of red or yellow.”

Rey shrugs. “Purple looks nicer.”

“Red and yellow are our neighborhood colors,” he insists, slightly more loudly. “It’s important to maintain uniformity.”

“What are we, the Borg?” She wrinkles her nose. “You need to loosen up, Solo.”

“And you need to do what you’re told for once!” The words burst out of him. Shit, she riles him up. He plants his hands on the fence and leans in until their faces are only inches apart.

Rey, predictably, doesn’t back down. Her jaw drops in outrage. “Do what I’m told? What am I, a toddler?"

“You certainly act like it.” Ben’s eyes flick down to her lips. They’re pink and soft-looking, and despite her tart personality, he bets she tastes sweet.

“And you act like a joyless curmudgeon!”

He laughs, eyes flicking back up to hers. She looks flustered, her cheeks pink and chest rising and falling rapidly. “I _am_ a joyless curmudgeon,” Ben says. “But I’m still right.”

“Like hell you are,” she spits. Her hands flex on the fence, mere inches from his. “If I’d known I was signing up for the HOA from Hell, I never would have moved here.”

“I wish you hadn’t.” The words tumble out of him before he can think them through, and there’s no taking them back.

Rey recoils, looking hurt. “Fuck you, arsehole.” She makes as if to move away, but Ben grabs her wrist, needing her to stay, needing to _finish_ this fight.

“There you go again with that filthy mouth.” His eyes drop to the mouth in question again. He’s helpless against this, whatever _this_ is—this need to shout at her and kiss her and fuck her into submission—

“Oh, is swearing against HOA regulations?” Rey asks, as quick as ever with the comeback. Her free hand lands on his chest, fingers twisting in the collar of his black button-up. She tugs hard, and Ben grunts as he rocks towards her, the fence top digging in to his waist. “Is there a dress code, too? Or are you just such a prig that you don’t even own a T-shirt?”

“I own T-shirts,” Ben says. His mind is spinning. She’s touching him—sort of—and he can see now that under the dirt on her cheek are dozens of adorable freckles. She looks like sunlight, and she smells like earth and flowers and citrus, and her wrist is so small in his grip. Her personality is huge, but she’s tiny compared to him.

Rey laughs. “Prove it.”

“What?” He’s losing track of the conversation, too caught up in thinking about how fully his body would engulf hers if he got her in his bed. How he would need to stretch her with his fingers before she could take his cock—

Rey tugs his collar again, and Ben’s fully erect now. “Prove you own a T-shirt. Go put one on right now.”

“No.” The soulmate mark on his arm practically burns, a reminder of what he’ll never have and doesn’t deserve. He doesn’t want her to see that shame.

“Put on a T-shirt and I’ll plant red flowers.”

Shit. Ben’s caught, and he knows it. By the way Rey is smirking, she knows it, too.

“And trim your hedges?” he pushes, because if he’s going to give her something so personal, he needs her to give him just as much back.

She rolls her eyes. “You must think a lot of this T-shirt.” He narrows his eyes and glares at her, and she sighs. “Fine. But I get to come with you when you go to change.”

“What?” This is a confusing development. His dick twitches, and he mentally chides it for assuming anything about this encounter is going to be sexual. Whatever Rey’s motivations, they have nothing to do with the lust that’s threatening to bring him to his knees.

“Maybe I want to see how my priggish arsehole of a neighbor lives. I bet you sort your shirts by color.”

“I only wear black.”

Rey laughs and shakes her head. “Of course you do.”

She bites her lip, and Ben’s done for. “Fine,” he says, releasing her wrist and stepping back. Rey is slow to let go of his collar, and the tension between them stretches as tight as the fabric of his shirt.

“No going back on your word,” Rey says, releasing him at last. “If you don’t own a T-shirt, I’m keeping the flowers.” She braces a hand on the fence and scrambles over, and there’s probably some HOA regulation about climbing fences like a jungle gym, but Ben can’t remember it. Rey is standing in _his_ yard, muddy boots on _his_ grass, and he likes it way more than he should.

“Unlike you, I keep my word,” Ben snarks as he heads back to the house, Rey keeping pace at his side.

Rey makes an offended noise. “When have I not kept my word?”

“When you signed the contract agreeing to abide by HOA regulations?”

Rey scoffs. “Yeah, but that was before I realized how stupid the regulations are.”

“They’re not stupid,” Ben says, opening the door and holding it so she can enter before him. “This neighborhood is exclusive, and every choice we make as homeowners has to reflect that. It’s—”

“Spare me the speech,” Rey says, marching confidently into his kitchen, where she commences opening and closing cabinets. “I’ve only heard it a million times.”

“Shoes off,” Ben barks, appalled to see that she’s tracked dirt into his kitchen.

She mutters something under her breath, then toes her shoes off and kicks them aside. Ben winces and reaches down to grab them and move them to the shoe rack in the foyer.

When he comes back, Rey is rummaging through his drawers. “What are you doing?” he asks, annoyed to see his chopsticks are no longer in neat rows.

“Seeing how the infamous Ben Solo, HOA president, lives.” Rey grins at him. “What’s the likelihood you’ll ever let me in here again? I need to learn if you’re a control freak in every aspect of your life.”

The words send his mind down a dark path. Yeah, he’s a control freak. If he ever gets her in his bed, he’ll control when and how many times she orgasms. He’ll pin her down and deny her pleasure until she tells him exactly what he wants to hear.

His erection is straining against his jeans. Rey’s eyes flicker down, then widen, and Ben turns away quickly, cursing his body for betraying him. He clears his throat. “If you’re done ruining my cutlery organization system, didn’t you want me to put on a T-shirt?”

“Of course you have a system.” The drawer shuts, and Rey pads over to join him. Her socks are whimsical, covered in polka-dots. How does someone with a petty, vindictive soul manage to look so sweet all the time?

He doesn’t want her seeing any more of his erection—well, that’s not strictly true—so he heads deeper into the house, towards his bedroom. It’s only when he enters the room with Rey hot on his heels that he realizes he’s in trouble. The bed is _right there_ , and Rey is _right here_ , and there’s no way in hell his boner is going down anytime soon.

“Some privacy?” he chokes out.

Rey rolls her eyes. “I know what a male chest looks like.”

“Fine.” If that’s the way she wants to play it, that’s how they’ll play it. Part of him thrills at the thought of having her eyes on his exposed skin, anyway. He moves to his dresser and pulls a T-shirt out, then sets it on the bed.

Rey stares at him as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. There’s something predatory in her stare, and it makes a shiver go down his spine. He slows down, perversely enjoying taking his time with this, and her eyes follow each flick of his fingers.

She wets her lips. “I should have known the T-shirt would be black, too.” Her voice is breathy, and Ben wonders if she’s actually enjoying this. If maybe her loathing for him is mixed up with want, just like his is for her.

It feels too hot in the room, and Ben’s grateful when he finally shrugs off his shirt. It falls to the floor, and he would normally need to put it in the laundry basket immediately, but he can’t move. She’s staring at his chest, practically gaping as she takes him in. Ben tightens his abs, just because he can.

“You work out,” she says, sounding dizzy.

“I do.” Discipline is important in every aspect of Ben’s life.

“You… huh.” She shakes her head. “Wouldn’t have expected that physique from Mister Stick-Up-His-Arse.”

He scowls, reminded once again that she thinks he’s a terrible, curmudgeonly _bore_. He wants to turn her over his knee and spank her for being such a brat, then teach her all the ways he is decidedly _not_ boring.

“You don’t seem to expect anything from me but outright villainy,” he says, turning to grab the T-shirt.

“That’s not true. I…” Rey trails off, then crosses the room so fast Ben startles and drops the T-shirt on the bed. She grabs his wrist and turns his arm so that damned soulmark is facing up. “What the—”

Christ. He groans. “Please don’t comment on how I’m too old not to have found a soulmate."

“You…” Her mouth works, and she traces a finger over the outline of his mark. He shivers at how good it feels. “How is this possible?” she whispers.

Of course she’s going to mock him. Ben yanks his arm out of her grip and turns away. “Because I’m a miserable prick and a joyless curmudgeon and have a stick up my ass. Remember? Surely you can’t be that shocked I don’t have a soulmate.”

“Ben.” Her voice is shaking. “Please, look at me.”

He turns around reluctantly… only to find Rey stripping off her shirt, revealing a toned stomach and a gray cotton bra. He yelps. “What are you doing?”

Then she turns, showing him her back. At the base of her spine, right where his forearm would rest if he pulled her into his arms for a kiss, is a red soulmate mark.

It matches his.

“No.” Ben falls to his knees, too flabbergasted to stand any longer. Rey starts to turn to face him again, but his hands shoot to her hips to hold her in place. He stares at the mark, taking in the curve of wings surrounding a sword with a star as its hilt. “How is this possible?” he breathes.

Rey is shaking. “I don’t know,” she says. “I thought… I thought I was all alone.”

“You’re not,” he says. “Oh my God, you’re not.” And then, because he can’t help himself, he leans in to press his lips to that mark. She makes a soft sound and shudders as he kisses it slowly, tenderly. The antagonism between them melts away, and something painful and precious blooms in Ben’s chest: hope.

Rey finally manages to wriggle out of his grasp and turn to face him. He stays on his knees, looking up at her worshipfully. She’s so beautiful, and she’s _his_ …

But she’s chewing her lip nervously, and Ben has the abrupt and crushing realization that, even if he is thrilled to have Rey as his soulmate, she might not feel the same. “Oh,” he says, bracing himself for rejection. “I’m sorry. You must be so disappointed.”

“No,” she says, reaching out to cup his face. One hand makes its way into his hair, stroking through the thick strands. “Not disappointed. Surprised. Freaked out? This is… a lot.”

“Rey.” Her name sounds so beautiful, and he wants to say it over and over again. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you moved in.”

Her laugh sounds surprised. “I thought you were thinking about my hedges.”

“I was.” He winces. “I still am. The regulations do matter, you know, it’s not just me being a dick—”

“Hush.” She claps a hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about the HOA regulations. I want you to fuck me the way I’ve been wanting you to for months.”

His eyes widen. “You have?” he tries to say, but it comes out muffled against her palm.

“Ben.” Her lips tilt in a smirk. “Why do you think I demanded to follow you into your house so I could watch you take off your shirt? I thought it was going to be a good old-fashioned hate fuck, but here we are.”

His heart plummets into his gut. He pries her hand off his lips, then swallows hard. “You hate me?”

She shakes her head. “No, but you rile me up. Every time we have a shouting match I have to go straight to my vibrator.”

He groans at the thought of her making herself come after their fights. He’s done it, too—taken himself in hand and pumped furiously while imagining her writhing beneath him. “I want to see that,” he says.

“You will.” She grins and tugs on his hair. “Later. Right now, I want you to throw me on that bed and fuck me hard.”

Ben surges to his feet and yanks her into his arms as his lips crash against hers. There’s a tingling sensation as his forearm meets her back, the feeling of something crucial settling into place. He can’t stop kissing her, and he was right, she tastes sweet. Rey clutches his head as she presses herself against him, and soon Ben’s bending her backwards with the aggression of his kisses, making her spine arch as she pushes her breasts into his chest.

He picks her up without breaking the kiss and takes two steps towards the bed. He tosses her on the mattress, and she giggles as he climbs over her. She’s getting garden dirt on his pristine black sheets, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too busy stripping off her soft bra, then tackling the waistband of her jeans. She helps him, fingers tangling with his as she pulls her pants off.

“Take yours off,” she orders him, and Ben is happy to obey. He stands and takes off his jeans, then his underwear and socks. When he straightens, Rey’s eyes shoot to his dick. “Whoa,” she says, clenching her thighs together and rocking her hips as if she’s imagining having him inside her. “You’re big.”

He smirks as he climbs back over her. “Surprised?”

She shakes her head and parts her legs. “I knew you’d be big. I thought about it a lot.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he kisses his way down her neck. “What did you think about?”

She moans as he sucks one tight nipple into his mouth. “When you were shouting at me about the hedges, I wanted to hop the fence, drop to my knees, and suck you off right there.”

“That’s…” Ben makes a choking sound at the thought of her sucking his dick on his front lawn, where anyone might see. “Maz would be appalled.”

“She wouldn’t be able to see over your precisely four-foot-tall hedges.”

Ben punishes her by taking her nipple between his teeth, and Rey gasps. “More,” she says, fingers lacing in his hair. “Suck harder.”

“Keep talking, then,” he orders her, switching to her other breast.

She obeys, body moving in restless waves as she rocks her hips against him. “I thought about you bending me over my kitchen table and fucking me while shouting about my blue windowsills.”

“You like being shouted at?” He sucks hard, earning him a breathy cry.

“I like pissing you off,” she says.

He takes a break to grin up at her. “I knew it. You’re a brat.”

“Hey,” she protests, but then he kisses his way down her stomach to the waistband of her simple cotton panties, and everything is apparently forgiven. “Oh, yes,” she says. “Do it, Ben.”

“Do what?” he asks, letting her feel his breath against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

“Taste me.”

“Are you going to ask nicely?”

Rey makes a frustrated sound. “Seriously?”

“You wanted to know if I’m a control freak in every aspect of my life.” Ben hovers right over her pussy, breathing in the musky scent of her through the cotton. “Here’s your answer.”

“Oh, God.” Rey’s hips jerk, and her mound brushes his chin. “Please taste me, Ben.”

He grins and rewards her with an open-mouthed kiss against her underwear. “Good girl,” he praises.

“Mmmm.” Rey sighs with pleasure as he strips her panties off, then her polka-dotted socks. They’re cute, but Ben needs skin-on-skin right now. “That’s something I never expected to hear from you.”

“That’s because you’re rarely good,” Ben says, rubbing his nose through the dark curls at the apex of her sex. “Maybe if you behaved, you’d hear it more often.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Ben laughs, then traces his tongue lightly over her labia. “That’s the idea.”

“More,” she says when he torments her with the gentlest of licks. She reaches for his head, trying to shove him closer, but he grabs her wrists and pins them at her sides.

“What do you say?”

She makes a frustrated sound. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please eat me out. I need more. Please!” She sounds desperate, and he likes how prettily she begs, so he gives in and gives her what she wants.

He kisses her deeper, sliding his tongue over and inside her before drawing up to circle her clit. She makes breathless, pleased noises, so he keeps it up, releasing one of her wrists so he can push a finger inside her.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he says, marveling at the soft, wet clench around his finger. He’ll need to work her up to taking his cock.

Rey swears and groans as he plays with her, alternating pressures and patterns against her clit as he gently pumps his finger in and out. When he thinks she’s ready, he adds a second finger.

Her back arches. “So big,” she says, sounding delirious.

“You can take it." He crooks his fingers and drags the pads down the sensitive inner wall of her vagina.

She gasps. “Oh, shit.”

“You like that?” he asks, stroking her G-spot again.

“Mmhmm.”

“Too bad.” He pulls his fingers out and kneels upright, and before she can do more than blink and sputter at him, he grabs her and flips her over onto her hands and knees. “You don’t deserve to come yet.”

“You arse!” Rey glares at him over her shoulder. “The fuck I don’t.”

He rubs his palm over the cheek of her ass, then slaps it lightly. Rey squeaks and jolts forward, then presses her hips back again, still glaring at him. Her cheeks are red, her hair disheveled from thrashing her head on the pillow, and he wants to make an absolute _mess_ of her.

“You planted purple flowers,” he reminds her as he spanks the other cheek. “And you have blue windowsills.” Another slap. “Your hedges aren’t within regulation. You play loud music after 10 pm. You once told me my head was so far up my own ass, I could probably see out my throat.” Every complaint is accompanied by a slap.

Rey groans and shoves her hips back for more. “I deliberately angled my sprinklers to get the side of your house wet.”

He gapes. “That was on purpose?” When she nods, he spanks her harder. “You’re overwatering my roses.”

“I also secretly planted verbena in the middle of your tulips late one night.”

“ _Rey_.” He smacks her ass hard in retaliation, enjoying the way the flesh jiggles. “Those are _purple_.” 

“I know,” she moans. “It was hysterical.”

That earns her another swat, and she collapses onto her elbows. “Please, Ben. I need to come.”

Her ass is rosy from his hits, and it’s gratifying to hear her beg, but the spiteful little creature doesn’t deserve to come yet. “Say you’re sorry,” he orders, planting his hands on either side of her and pressing himself flush to her back. His cock presses against the curve of her ass, and he bites his lip to stop from moaning.

“I’m not sorry,” Rey says, grinding back against him. Her cheek is pressed to the sheet, and she looks up at him with devilry in her eyes. “Not even a little bit.”

“You want more punishment, is that it?” He fists her hair and tugs her head off the sheets, making her gasp. “You want to be spanked until you scream?”

“No,” she moans, bucking back against him.

“Then say you’re sorry.”

“I can’t,” she gasps. “Because teasing you… tormenting you… it brought me here, didn’t it?”

He softens at that, gentling the hand in her hair. “It did,” he says, kneeling up so he can stroke down the elegant line of her back. He circles the mark at the base of her spine, marveling once again that such a vibrant, beautiful, frustrating creature is _his_. “So I suppose you’re forgiven.”

She turns onto her back and grins up at him. “You could always try to fuck me into submission, though.”

He chuckles as he settles into the cradle of her hips. “It’s a decent suggestion. Are you ready?”

She nods eagerly. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” Her cheeks flush. “Seems good for you to know.”

“No condom, then?” he says, hardly daring to believe his ears.

“If you’re clean, then we’re good.”

He dips down to kiss her, worshipping her mouth with long, drugging passes of his lips. She’s perfect, just as she is, and he’s never felt this happy in his life. "All right, sweetheart,” he says, breaking away enough to get a hand between them. He takes his cock in hand and lines up with her soaked entrance. “Relax for me.”

He pushes in with a long, slow thrust. She’s tight and wet and warm and _perfect_ , and his ears buzz as he sheathes himself fully inside her. Rey whimpers, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

“All right?” he asks.

She nods and presses a kiss to his throat. “Move, Ben.”

He holds himself still for agonizing seconds, muscles trembling from how much he wants to fuck her hard and fast. “What do you say?” he asks.

Rey nips the side of his neck. “Bastard. Fine. Please move.”

He bites down on a grin. “That didn’t sound very polite.”

“Ugh!” She squeezes her inner muscles around him, and he hisses at the added tightness. “Fine. Please move, Ben, and I promise I’ll dig up the verbena.”

It’s a good incentive. He pulls out slowly, then surges back in hard enough to knock a gasp from her throat. He does it again and again, rolling his hips to fuck her as deeply and thoroughly as she deserves.

“Oh, God.” Rey’s hips tilt as she catches his rhythm. “You feel so good.”

His soulmate mark feels hot, and he wonders if hers does, too. If this is what happens when two imperfect but perfectly matched people come together for the first time. It feels downright magical, from the buzzing under his skin to the brush of her lips against his throat to the pressure building in his cock. He slams into her hard enough to slide her a few inches up the bed, and Rey gasps and clutches his ass. “Again,” she commands.

Ben’s head is spinning, and he’s too drunk on her to even care that she’s ordering him around again. He obliges her, knocking noisy cries from her throat with each pump of his hips. He gets a hand between them and presses on her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Come on, Rey,” he says. “Need you to come.”

She’s writhing beneath him like a fantasy, her sweet little body pinned on his cock the way it was meant to be. He wants to keep her like this forever. He wants her to _live_ on his dick.

“Oh,” she moans, her body tightening up around him. “Oh, oh…” Her teeth sink into his shoulder, and she screams into his skin as her body pulses around him rhythmically.

“Thank Christ,” he mutters, then braces his arms beside her head and starts fucking her as hard and fast as he needs. The pressure in his dick is nearly unbearable. It gives way all at once, an explosive rush that leaves him gasping and seeing stars. “Fuck!” he shouts as he empties himself into her.

When it’s over, he’s so wiped out he barely has the energy to turn them onto their sides. His head is spinning, and he hasn’t been this relaxed in _years_ , if ever.

Rey studies him through half-lidded eyes, a sleepy smile on her face. She traces her finger over his chest. “That was incredible.”

He grunts in acknowledgement, too worn out to form proper words.

Her smile turns mischievous. “I’m keeping the pansies.”

Ben groans and closes his eyes. “You’re going to be even more insufferable from now on, aren’t you?”

She cackles. “Fucking the HOA president has to have some benefits.”

“Minx.” He grabs her and tugs her against him, wrapping his arms around her so their soulmate marks overlap. “There are rules for a reason.”

She snuggles into his chest. “Maybe the rules need to be changed.”

And yeah, okay, maybe some of them could be altered a bit. “I guess the purple doesn’t look _terrible_."

She yawns. “I’ll still pull out the verbena, though. Tomorrow.”

For some reason, thinking about having a bright spray of purple in the midst of his yellow tulips makes him smile. “No,” he says. “Leave it there.”


End file.
